Oh yeah! This is exactly what it looks like. It's a butt-plug in the shape of baby Jesus. Christianity has been, is and will be the most successful corporation of all time, it was only a matter of time before they went into exploiting sex.
1 Can you pull in the Leviathan with a fishhook 2 Can you put a cord through his nose
or pierce his jaw with a hook?
3 Will he keep begging you for mercy?
Will he speak to you with gentle words?
(Yes I know, it's a bible quote but how awesome is that whale?)
The Way To Succeed And The Way To
Suck Eggs!
This is the Holy Hexagram.
Plunge from the height, O God, and interlock with
Man!
Plunge from the height, O Man, and interlock with
Beast!
The Red Triangle is the descending tongue of grace;
the Blue Triangle is the ascending tongue of
prayer
This Interchange, the Double Gift of Tongues, the
Word of Double Power-ABRAHADABRA!-is
the sign of the Great Work, for the Great
Work is accomplished in Silence. And behold is
not that Word equal to Cheth, that is Cancer.
whose Sigil is {Cancer}?
This Work also eats up itself, accomplishes its own
end, nourishes the worker, leaves no seed, is per-
fect in itself.
Little children, love one another!What a fucking weirdo he was! Hurray for weirdos!
Johnny The Homicidal Maniac got us close.
There was a policeman who was six-foot-four
The old man stood there, in the middle of the street, staring. He wasn't staring in a particular way or with a particular face. However, he was staring at something in particular. It was a sack of potatoes.
Austin Osman Spare was a fucking weirdo. To say the least. He was an automatic writer and painter. He was also considered a magician by many. His dabbling with the occult is well known and as Terry Pratchett would put it "it wasn't so much dabbling as it was barging in and demanding to see the manager". His writings and drawings can be seen here.Hostile to self-torment, the vain excuses called devotion, Zos satisfied the habit by speaking loudly unto his Self. And at one time, returning to familiar consciousness, he was vexed to notice interested hearers-a rabble of involuntary mendicants, pariahs, whoremongers, adulterers, distended bellies, and the prevalent sick-grotesques that obtain in civilisations. His irritation was much, yet still they pestered him, saying:
And seeing, with chagrin, the hopeful multitude of Believers, he went down into the Valley of Stys, prejudiced against them as
O, ye whose future is in other hands! This familiarity is permitted not of thy-but of my impotence. Know me as Zos the Goatherd, saviour of myself and of those things I have not yet regretted. Unbidden ye listen'd to my soliloquy. Endure then my Anathema.
Foul feeders! Slipped, are ye, on your own excrement? Parasites! Having made the world lousy, imagine ye are of significance to Heaven?
-Can I have a ticket please?
Soon I discovered that this Rock thing was true
And like a newborn he is lifted. Dead between the walls. Caught in the headlights. The roadkill of society. The animal inside the man. The power animal. Animus. Magnanimous. Stagnant and stale. Like a swamp. Like a fool stumbling into the swamp. Our new god. What is your name so that we may worship you? Give us a sign. Perform a miracle so that we may avert our eyes. Give us some commandments for we cannot live with the burden of conscience. This is a new birth. A new life. From the beginning. With the benefit of experience. Keep the gun oiled and the temple clean, shit, snort and blaspheme...
Victim eugenics
Paris Hilton is in jail... good. 
And I do walk upon Wan’s Dyke
Luigi Russolo was a great man and one can only hope that one day all artists will be as open-minded as he was and all people will be as receptive to art as he was. What do you mean you don't know who he was? Fine, here's the goddamn link.
The cucumber suicides
Translucent flesh and feeble bones
The kind of temple where the whores and villains
Try to tempt the holistic tomes
Running rapid with free thought to free form
In the free and clear
Where the matters at hand are shelled out like lint at a laundromat
To sift and focus on the bigger, better, now
We all have a little sin than needs venting
Virtues for the rending
And laws and systems
And stems ariff from the branches of office
Do you know what your post entails?
Do you serve a purpose?
Or purposely serve?
Lying down inside of your attavistic galore
The value of a Summer spent
And a Winter earned
For the rest of us there is always Sunday.
The day of the week that reeks of rest
But all we do is catch out breaths
So we can wade naked into the bloody pool
And place our hand on the big black book.
To watch the knives zig-zag between our aching fingers.
A vacation is a count-down
T-minus your life and counting
Time to drag your tongue across the sugar-cube
And hope you get a taste
What the FUCK is all this for?! (What the hell is goin' on?!)
SHUT UP!!
I could go on and on, but, lets move on shall we?
Say, you're me and I'm you
And they all watch the things we do
And like a smack of spite
They threw me down the stairs
Haven't felt like this in years
The great magnet of malicious magnanimous refuse
Let me go and
Punch me into the dead spot again.
Thats where you go when theres' no one else around
It's just you
And there was never anyone to begin with now was there?
Sanctimonious pretentious dastardly bastards
With their thumb on the pulse
And a finger on the trigger
CLASSIFIED MY ASS! that's a FUCKING secret and you know it!
Government is another way to say
Better
Than
You.
It's like ice but no pick
A murder charge that won't stick
It's like a whole other world
Where you can smell the food
But you can't touch the silverware
Hah, what luck
Fascism you can vote for
Isn't that sweet
And we're all gonna die some day
Because thats the American way
And I've drunk too much
And said too little
When your gaffer taped in the middle
Say a prayer, save face
Get yourself together and (see whats happening)
SHUT UP! (FUCK YOU!)
FUCK YOU!
I'm sorry, I could go on and on but
It's time to move on, so
Remember your a wreck, an accident
Forget the freak, you're just nature
Keep the gun oiled and the temple clean
Shit, snort and blaspheme
Let the heads cool and the engine run
Because in the end,
Everything we do
Is just everything we've done.
